


beautiful

by thatqueergoat (orphan_account)



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Fluff and Smut, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Sexuality Crisis, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Wet Dream, Why Did I Write This?, little bit of a praise kink cause why not, supposedly straight but like this is fanfic cmon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 10:40:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23350048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/thatqueergoat
Summary: ewwww summariesJack's masturbating??? Crutchie finds him??? Smut ensues?????fjkhdsdhkjds i'm so bad at this
Relationships: Crutchie/Jack Kelly
Comments: 4
Kudos: 64





	beautiful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Of_Pigeons_And_Dumbfucks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Of_Pigeons_And_Dumbfucks/gifts).



> PigeonsAndTurtles this is all your fault 
> 
> probably gonna dedicate all the fics to you ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> back at it again with the fanfics cause quarantine is boring and i'm procrastinating on homework
> 
> i wrote this instead of sleeping are you proud of me 
> 
> it's like 2:45 am 
> 
> i'm hungry and i need attention 
> 
> i'm so sleep deprived

(This is probably the only part that’s going to be in Crutchie’s POV but like whatever). 

Crutchie’s eyes fluttered open, feeling the sudden need to pee. He looked up at the sky and sighed. The sky was still eerily pitch black, save for the few stars that twirled and danced along the sky in various patterns. He usually didn’t climb down the ladder by himself, but he didn’t want to wake Jack and wanted to feel accomplished that he had finally done something by himself, so he grabbed his crutch and dropped it to the ground, wincing at the thud it made as it hit the ground and looking over to make sure his best friend was still sleeping. He swung his legs down the ladder, and slowly lowered himself down, gripping the rail tightly, trying not to fall, placing his good leg on the first rung. About 5 minutes later, he was finally all the way down. He grabbed his crutch and hobbled towards the bathroom in Newsies square. 

(Jack’s POV) 

Jack woke up with a start from his dream, sitting up quicker than what seemed humanly possible, eyes drawn to the fact that Crutchie was missing, and so was his crutch. _Was he kidnapped?! No, his crutch would probably still be here _. He reasoned. _He probably went to pee _, Jack told himself, not wanting to overanalyze. He raked his hand over his face and tried not to think of the dream he just had, but it was no use. The image of his best friend thrusting into him and Crutchie’s wrecked state, head thrown back, flush travelling along his body, highlighting the freckles dancing all over his body, calling Jack a good boy over and over just wouldn’t seem to leave his mind. He looked down at his throbbing erection, then over at Crutchie’s empty side, the gears slowly turning in his head.____

_____ _

____

_He won’t be back for a while, you just need to be fast _. He sighed, and delved into thoughts of fantasy. How Crutchie would approach him, shirtless because Jack wanted him to be, and trace his lips with his fingers. How his breath would falter before they kissed. Crutchie arms, wrapped around him, pulling him closer. Crutchie slotting a thigh between his legs, tongue in his mouth, as Jack would rut shamelessly against him with a moan, Crutchie’s hands gripping tightly to his ass, breath hitching.__

____

____

Shoving a hand past his waistband, Jack started to jerk himself off slowly, quickly spitting on his palm to avoid chafing. A small mewl escaped his lips. 

Grabbing the small jar of oil he used sometimes for his landscapes for Medda, knowing he would need something to help, Jack slicked up a few of his fingers and imagined Crutchie, hand pulling his shirt up and over his head, licking down his front and sucking over the buds of his chest. Not his own hand in his pants. Not his own fingers drifting further back, slicked with oil, massaging his rim. 

Jack moaned loudly this time, Crutchie’s face and fingers and voice lingering behind his closed eyelids. He had never touched this part of his body. It was weird, but imagining Crutchie touching him there was extremely arousing. Tentatively, Jack pushed a single finger inside himself, eyebrows scrunched, wincing at the pain and discomfort. It didn’t feel right, and the stretch burned, but he tried to relax and wiggled his finger a bit. He kept going, pushing the finger in and out slowly, curling it occasionally and suddenly it started to feel good, and Jack didn’t know why. It wasn’t significantly pleasurable, but it felt a lot better than it did at first. None of it really made sense to him, but he kept going, imagining Crutchie biting down on his neck, licking and sucking, his long finger pumping in and out of him, telling him he was a good boy, he was doing so well. He couldn't help but moan lowly again, fading into a whimper.

Feeling constricted, Jack pushed off his pants, gasping as the cold night air hit his body. He reached over and poured more oil onto his fingers, and because he was able to get more space without his pants on, this time he inserted two fingers rather than one. A short yelp escaped his lips, his body still not quite used to the intrusion, but he found the more he pushed and twisted and scissored the better he felt. There were breathy whines and moans echoing around the room, sounding filthy and obscene, and it didn't take him long to realise they were his own as the flush continued to creep up his neck, invading his cheeks, turning them a sun-kissed pink, like the color of a spring rose. 

He continued this for a couple minutes, and Jack realized he started feeling a lot more than good. He was painfully aware of his hard dick flush against his stomach and the fingers sliding in and out of him were sending waves of pleasure up his spine. He wasn’t quite used to the odd feeling but it was different and it was new and it was starting to become a bit incredible, so instead of just pumping his finger in and out he decided to try twisting and crooking his fingers, his breath coming out in short pants as he grinded down on his fingers. 

And that was when he moved his fingers in a different direction, hit a bundle of nerves and then Jack was gasping and arching his back, eyes wide open as he furiously thrusted himself on the two digits. He started fucking himself with his fingers even harder, massaging his prostate even more, close to tears from all the pleasure surging through his body. He was unable to hold back his voice as he twisted and pushed his fingers harder against his prostate dirtily, no longer caring just how spread open and vulnerable he was or how slutty and needy he looked like this, one hand fisted around his cock and the other pushing his fingers up his own ass. It felt like heaven, and he was so wrapped up in the pleasure coursing through him, he didn’t notice a crutch thrown up onto the platform, or the noise of his best friend struggling to climb up the ladder. 

Jack thought about Crutchie discovering him like this, eyes wide, shocked and uncertain, Jack panting and moaning his name continuously on his lips, thrusting up into his own fist…

It took him a few seconds to realise he wasn't exactly fantasising anymore. There was Crutchie, standing like a deer in headlights, only halfway up the ladder, so only his head and shoulders were visible. Jack knew the embarrassment should’ve probably set in by now, but he was so fucking turned on that he couldn’t do anything but moan louder and press his fingers into his prostate again, eyes wide open and breath coming out in only short gasps and pants. 

"Please," Jack croaked, voice rough and gravelly from disuse. "Crutchie, _please _." Those two words felt like the only ones in his entire vocabulary. He couldn't think of anything else.__

____

____

Gulping and not saying a word, Crutchie climbed up the rest of the ladder and sort of crawled towards Jack at a far more tentative pace than Jack liked. He kind of sat there for a minute and Jack could see the gears turning in his head, considering his options. He looked at Jack holding his flush cock then at the fingers in Jack’s ass. He gulped again.

“ _Please _, Crutch,” Jack begged again, not particularly enjoying the slow pace Crutchie was going at. Crutchie blinked, his eyes snapping back up to Jack’s face and licking his lips before scooting closer to Jack. He delayed for only a moment longer, then swatted Jack's hand out of the way on his cock and replaced it with his own. Jack immediately moaned, the feeling of someone else's hand so much better than his own, especially because it was Crutchie.__

____

____

Crutchie looked over at the oil next to Jack then at the fingers in his ass. He slicked his hand in the oil, one hand still wrapped around Jack’s cock, pulling Jack’s fingers out, before shoving three fingers in grinding against his prostate in time with the jerking of his hand. Jack gasped, back arching, mouth hanging open. The pleasure he was currently feeling was unlike any other he had ever felt before. It felt like every nerve in his entire body had suddenly awoken, sending waves upon waves of bliss coursing through his body, and time didn't stop, it fucking shattered. 

“Crutchie, _shit _, so good,” Jack gasped, pushing himself closer to Crutchie’s body, wanting his hands all over him but they stayed glued to his two most sensitive points, unwavering.__

____

____

"Yeah?" Crutchie whispered breathily, not looking into Jack's eyes. He alternated between staring at his cock, his ass or his neck, and Jack briefly wondered if he was thinking about kissing it.

" _Fuck _, yeah," Jack mewled, hips bucking up again, hands fisting into the thin worn blanket around him, eyes desiring to screw shut but wanting to watch Crutchie's face like this while he could. Crutchie’s teeth were tugging at his bottom lip, making it swell slightly, and his eyes were almost confused, as if he didn't know what he was doing as he spit back down onto his hand to make the glide of his palm easier on Jack's throbbing cock. "Faster, _please _, ‘m gonna come," Jack pleaded, not even concerned at how needy he sounded or soon it had been since Crutchie started touching him that he felt the desire to orgasm, because it all felt too fucking good for him to care.____

___ _

___It didn’t take many more pumps and thrusts of Crutchie’s hand before the coil of arousal in Jack’s belly to overflow and spill into the hand that wasn’t his, a soft and shaky, “Fuck,” escaping from Crutchie’s lips. Crutchie immediately removed his fingers from Jack’s ass, who whimpered at the loss, Crutchie still pumping his cock a few more times to get through his orgasm. Despite having just come, Jack still felt aroused because there Crutchie was, cheeks flushed and tinted pink, the blooming colour a contrast against his pale freckled skin. He was right there, and Jack wanted him desperately._ _ _

_____ _

_____ _

“Crutchie,” Jack finally whispered after seconds of awkward silence, his hands shaking, scared of how Crutchie would react to his next statement. “Please. Need you, _please _.”__

____

____

Crutchie finally looked up into Jack’s eyes, but said nothing. He crawled slightly further up the platform, knees now planted on either side of Jack’s thighs. “I’m st-straight,” he insisted, yet continued to slowly move further up, elbows now resting on either side of Jack’s face. 

“I know,” Jack said softly, but pleaded with his eyes for Crutchie to say yes. Jack didn't know what it was exactly that finally convinced Crutchie, whether it was the needy look in Jack’s eyes, or the free opportunity for sex, but somehow he did it. Crutchie shoved his three fingers back into Jack’s oversensitive hole, pushing them in and out, twisting and curling them around until he found Jack’s abused prostate again. 

"Fuck! Crutchie, _shit _, do that again, oh fuck," he sobbed, and he realised he was crying, eyes wide open as he furiously rocked himself on Crutchie's fingers. The pleasure was almost too much, after having Crutchie’s fingers driving into him for so long, to have them shoving back into him again was pure bliss and torture all at the same time. Jack found himself forcing down on his fingers, desperate for more inside of him, wanting to feel so full he couldn't breathe.__

____

____

After a couple minutes, Jack was a blubbering, twitching mess underneath Crutchie, who had now dumped his clothes in a pile next to Jack’s. Jack was very pleased to see his thick cock immediately bouncing up against his stomach, a size Jack could definitely appreciate. _Not so straight after all _, Jack thought, almost giggling to himself, but his almost laugh got lost in a groan as Crutchie tugged at himself a few times, licking his lips.__

____

____

He sucked in a deep breath, closing his eyes. This was it. He was actually about to have gay sex with his best friend. His amazing, loyal, hot as fuck best friend was about to stick his giant cock up Jack's ass and Jack was probably going to moan so loud he wouldn't be able to look at himself the same way ever again. 

Jack couldn’t see him, as his eyes were closed, but he felt Crutchie’s presence looming over him. “Open your eyes,” the other boy whispered. So he did. Jack’s eyes flutter open to see Crutchie leaning over him, and all of the memories Jack’s had with Crutchie over the past few months plays in his mind at once. Waking up together on the platform, watching Medda’s shows, selling papes, smiles, that one fiasco when race had accidentally broken the fire hydrant and water had splattered everywhere and he’d heard Crutchie laugh and fluffy blonde hair and freckles, countless freckles, like the constellations in the sky. 

And when Crutchie finally pushed in, the feeling was indescribable. Crutchie’s cock was so much bigger and went so much deeper than his fingers, hitting his prostate from almost every angle. It took awhile for him to adjust to the sheer size of the intrusion, but Crutchie didn't make any sound of complaint, just waiting for Jack's physical signs to go in further. Inch by inch he entered, until he couldn't go any further with the position they were currently in. Crutchie made a grunt of disapproval, pulling out suddenly, causing Jack to whine until a bundle of clothes was placed under his hips and his legs were thrown over Crutchie's shoulders, allowing the blond boy to thrust all the way to his hilt without obstruction.

Jack inhaled sharply, relishing in the sudden feeling of being filled up so rapidly. His hands flew up and found Crutchie's body, holding on to him somewhere, but he didn't entirely know where as his eyes were glazed over and his head was thrown back, back arched as Crutchie slowly thrusted in and out, groaning as he did. It was just like the fucking dream, a pink tint travelling throughout Crutchie’s entire body, freckles splattered across him as if he was the canvas and they were the paint. 

Jack started nudging his ass back against Crutchie's cock determinedly, wanting to go faster. Crutchie took the hint, beginning to thrust with much more intention, mouth slightly open as he stared down at the connection between them, entranced by the sight of his own cock sliding in and out of the brunet's body with ease. Jack wrapped both his legs around Crutchie's back in an attempt to get a deeper angle, Crutchie's cock thrusting directly into Jack's prostate and he was screaming, nails raking down Crutchie's back, bound to leave harsh marks that would remind Crutchie every day for the next week of this night. 

Neither of them spoke, but Crutchie gave a sharp yell of warning before he came first, hips stuttering, and he drove his cock as deep as it would go and painted Jack’s insides white. Since Jack had already orgasmed he was a little more difficult, but Crutchie was quick to pull out and insert his three fingers back in, grinding it against the boy's prostate until he came again with a cry. Their breath mingled with one another as Jack rode out his orgasm against Crutchie's hand, until Crutchie pulled his fingers out with a slight sob on Jack's behalf, who tried to follow Crutchie’s hand as it pulled away. 

The platform was silent, save for their heavy breathing and a few crickets chirping, and Jack opened his eyes to see Crutchie a few feet away facing the other direction, elbows on his knees, and his face clutched in his hands. Jack was immediately overwhelmed with guilt and shame at what he’d done, wanting to go over and sit next to him but also wanting to get as far away from him as possible and curl up in a ball and cry. Crutchie was his best friend, and he had somehow convinced him to have sex with him, he probably had so many regrets, and he’d go and bunk with Race or Mush or Specs and they’d never speak to eachother again.

“I’m so fucking sor-” Jack blurted out, but was interrupted. 

Crutchie whirled to face him, “Jack Kelly, don’t you dare tell me you’re sorry. I’m the one who should be apologizing, I took advantage of you.” He turned to face away again, and Jack thought he saw tears brimming. He scooted forwards so he was sitting next to Crutchie, grabbed his shoulders and pulled him to face Jack. 

“Crutch, I literally had my fingers up my ass and was basically chanting your name when you got back. I’m pretty sure I wanted it.” he joked, a small smile on his face. 

Crutchie didn’t move, he simply muttered, mostly to himself, “I just- I thought- I mean, I didn’t think…” then broke off, clearly conflicted and unsure what to say. 

“Thought… what?” for the first time since Crutchie arrived, Jack felt hesitant. 

“Straight. I- I thought I was straight,” Crutchie blurted. 

"You- you still could be," Jack offered, although it pained him to say it. He didn't want Crutchie to be. He wanted Crutchie to come over and kiss him and tell him he'd just had some of the best sex of his life.

Crutchie made a small noise, somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “Jack I just stuck my dick up your ass. I don’t think I can call myself straight after that.” 

Jack almost outright laughed, covering his mouth, not used to hearing those kinds of things coming from Crutchie.

Crutchie continued, “I was talking to one of the Bowery Beauties yesterday, while you were painting that backdrop, but all I could think about was you,” he looked up to meet Jack’s eyes for the first time in about 10 minutes. “I’m pretty sure I spent the whole day thinking about you. I told myself, it’s because he’s your best friend and you haven’t seen him all day, cause he’s been painting, and you miss him. It’s normal. But… then she kissed me.” Jack felt his stomach flip, hating the idea of some random girl with her tongue in Crutchie’s mouth, claiming what he wanted to be his. “And I was still thinking about you. I thought I liked her, thought I would be into it, but I was still fucking thinking about you, so I told her I had to go and so I left and hid out here for the rest of the day. Then today, I come back and I hear you panting my name. I knew I should've just left it, gone to sleep with one of the others, let you finish, but I couldn't, and you were just all sprawled out with your fucking fingers up your ass and all I could think about was how hot you looked." Jack’s heart abruptly stopped, then started again at full speed as he swallowed hard. "So no, I don't think I'm straight," Crutchie concluded, a slightly confused expression on his freckled face, as a pained laugh escaped from his lips in an exhale. 

Jack desperately wanted to lean over and kiss the frown off his face. But he couldn’t. So instead he whispered, “You don’t have to make a decision yet.” Crutchie was probably just saying this to make him feel better, he felt obligated, pitying. 

“But I _want _to make decisions, Jack!” Crutchie ran a hand over his face. “I don’t want to just shove this to the back of my mind, I don’t want to just forget it ever happened, go back to believing I'm straight. I don’t even think that’s possible, but I can’t just change it, can’t change the way I feel about boys…” Crutchie looked so close to crying, and Jack just wanted to crawl into his arms, make him feel safe, happy, secure. “God, what would the others say if they found out?” Crutchie let out one of those shaky, exhaling laughs again.__

____

____

“If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t know I liked boys until you came along,” Jack whispered, trying his best to comfort his best friend, and it seemed to work a little, Jack could see the little beginnings of a smile, the corners of his mouth twitching up. 

“I’m just… scared, I guess. People can be so fucking cruel and unforgiving…” Cructhie says, staring at and fiddling with his hands, obviously thinking about the refuge. “But… I’m looking at you… and I don't think I’ve ever seen someone as beautiful…” Jack felt the heat searing in his cheeks, and knew his face must be an odd shade of red now. He looked up and Crutchie was smiling at him, and Jack immediately grinned back, it was an instinct. Crutchie’s smile was contagious, the way his lips lifted upward, the way his one dimple crinkles, freckles dotting his cheeks like constellations. The way his teeth are perfectly aligned, the warm glow his happiness gives. His smile is a ray of sunshine, and Jack is the sunburn. 

“You think I’m beautiful?” Jack says, testing it out, smiling broadly at Crutchie, who was now the one with the blush rising in his cheeks. 

“Yeah,” Cructhie says, breathless, and he doesn’t have time to be scared, because suddenly Jack’s lips are on his. 

Jack moves his hands up to cup Crutchie’s cheeks, and he can feel Crutchie pulling him a little closer. Cructhie’s mouth is warm on Jack’s and he can feel Crutchie holding back a smile, as he moves his hands up Jack’s back, strong and gentle. 

Jack runs a hand around Crutchie’s neck and up into his hair, and with the slightest bit of pressure, Jack is opening himself up willingly to Crutchie, who slips his mouth open and his tongue dips in, and the kiss deepens and suddenly Jack can feel it everywhere. There’s a tightness in his chest, and he feels like he’s gonna cry, but he doesn’t, just lets the feeling wash over and fill him up. 

They finally pull apart, and Jack opens his eyes to see Crutchie there, looking right back at him, cheeks flushed, smiling. His hair's a mess from where Jack’s fingers were running through it, and Jack cups Crutchie’s cheek tenderly, and leans his forehead against Crutchie’s. 

“I think you’re beautiful too.”

**Author's Note:**

> wow you read the entire thing i'm proud of you
> 
> what the heck is this 
> 
> disgusting
> 
> why do i do this to myself
> 
> you have no idea how many frigging times i mispelled "straight"
> 
> does anyone else be productive for like two hours then get distracted and watch musical bootlegs the rest of the day then panic because you haven't actually gotten anything done then do it all over again the next day because same


End file.
